Page 61 of The Lucky One
“Sorry, Nat, but tonight”—Jon threw his arm around my shoulders—“I want to spend some alone time with my girl.” My cheeks turned hot. Jon could read me like an open book.
“No!” Natalia protested. “I’ve been wanting to hang for months now.”
I smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Nat... Some other time?”
She made a pouty face. “Fine. I’ll see you at work on Tuesday, right?”
“Definitely.”
She and Dave waved their goodbyes and bounced back into the bar.
Jon gave my arm a little squeeze. “They aren’t the addict types.”
“How do you know?”
“They got it under control. A party here and there, a few drinks.” He shrugged, and I nodded. Taking a closer look, I noticed the signs of his own addiction: he was rubbing his wrist, shifting from one leg to the other. This place was triggering him.
We should be talking about this more openly, facing the issues instead of ignoring them. “Do you think you can ever be more casual about partying?” I asked.
Jon’s eyes darkened and he looked at the ground. “Addiction isn’t something you can cure. It will always be a part of me.”
“Okay,” I said, stepping up close to him again. “Good thing we make such a great team.”
He grabbed my hand and smiled. “We still have another hour. Wanna know what’s next on a Jon Denson type of date?”
We drove through a deserted field, not encountering a single car on the way. Finally, Jon turned off the car along with the headlights.
“Should I put on the tie again?” I giggled, twirling the soft fabric around my finger.
“No need.” Jon gestured into the pitch-black darkness.
“We can’t venture out there. What if a serial killer’s waiting for us?”
“A serial killer? Seriously?” He cracked up.
“My brother made me watch this horror movie one time, it was... traumatizing.”
“Lucas, right?” Jon perked a brow.
“Yes!” I grinned. Jon might know about my deepest fears and insecurities, but he still had so much to catch up on—the basic facts that formed the everyday mosaic of me.
My smile faded. How could he be ready for marriage if he was still missing this much?
“I want to hear all about those traumatizing brother-sister moments, but for now—” He leaped out of the car, jogged to my side, opened the door and held out his hand. “I’m taking you to the second half of the Jon Denson special.”
“Thank you.” I grabbed his hand, shaking off the thought. We walked quietly down a path, gravel crunching beneath our feet, until we reached a moonlit lake. “This is so beautiful...”
I had a new favorite, I realized: no longer the sunset, but the moon over a serene lake.
Jon let go of my hand. “Let’s go in.”
“What?” I dragged my eyes from the moon to Jon pulling his shirt over his head. “I don’t have a swimsuit, and it’s freezing!”
“I know it’s part of your bucket list. I saw it in your book. Skinny-dipping.” Now he was shrugging out of his jeans, leaving him in only his underwear.
My heart raced. “That was random ideas, I didn’t actually—”
“They were still ideas, and ideas are there to be fulfilled.”